


in which ronan learns to say please

by bpdcerberus



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anyways, Asshole Brothers, BPD, Car Accidents, F/M, Fighting, M/M, Mentioned Murder, Ronan and K arent dating but they kiss, Self depreciation, So yeah, Street Racing, car crashes, characters with bpd, mostly putting it uo there for views, non-con kissing, sort of rovinsky byt also not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8135810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bpdcerberus/pseuds/bpdcerberus
Summary: "Joseph Kavinsky was like a rip in an essay that you spent hours writing out by hand. Despicable, menacing and leaves you full of anger and regret. Ronan Lynch knew all about this specific rip, having raced against him nearly every weekend. This weekend was no different."
Ronan has one god damn shitty awful weekend that includes being kissed by Kavinsky, losing a race, almost getting arrested, crashing, then having to ask for help.





	1. In Which Ronan Races With A Bear

**Author's Note:**

> WOOHOO GIVE IT UP FOR REPOSTING  
> I deleted this a while back cause i never thought id work on it again but im almost done with Chapter two. And its alot longer. And i have chapter three planned out and chapter four shooooould be the last one but well see how it goes

Joseph Kavinsky was like a rip in an essay that you spent hours writing out by hand. Despicable, menacing and leaves you full of anger and regret. Ronan Lynch knew all about this specific rip, having raced against him nearly every weekend. This weekend was no different. 

The Friday night was dry but hot, making the back of Ronan's t-shirt stick to his back. He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car, waiting for the white Mitsibushi that ensured the night would be one for racing. Ronan sat back against the leather seats for his own BMW, eyes on the road to his left. Kavinsky was going to show. Ronan knew he would. The Bulgarian boy would never not show up for a race and risk losing his reputation. Besides, Kavinsky was probably so hyped up on coke he thought he could do anything he put his mind to - which wasn't far off. At last, Ronan spotted the blue-tinted headlights that announced Kavinsky's arrival. He moved his hand to the ignition, ready to go once his opponent spotted him. Ronan could see Kavinsky's signature white sunglasses were perched on the top of his head. He was wearing his plain white biker tank and his dark hair was tousled. It made him look dangerous in the way that a reared-up bear looked dangerous. Not that it was just a look. Joseph Kavinsky was very dangerous. 

Kavinsky pulled into the spot next to Ronan, getting out of his Mitsibushi. He stood next to his door, looking right at Ronan through the tinted car windows. "C'mon, Lynch. Lets have a talk." K said, his usual twisted grin nonexistent. Ronan got out of his BMW, closing his car door with more force than he usually would. This boy made his blood boil. Usually Kavinsky made no move to have a face to face talk. This was bound to get out of hand, Ronan thought. 

"Kavinsky." Ronan all but snarled the name like it was the dirtiest curse word that ever left his lips. 

Kavinsky, having none of it, returned the hostile greeting with a growl. "Lynch." 

The hair on the back of Ronans neck stood up in warning. Whatever Kavinsky got out of his car for couldn't be good. 

"What took you so long?" Ronan asked, leaning against the side of his car. "Gave Proko some head before you left?" He taunted. Poking fun at both of their homosexual tendencies was a game they both played, although this usually led to them fistfighting in the halls of Aglionby. However, they werent in Aglionby, so Ronan was in a much better mood than he would be at school. 

"Yeah, he's back home recovering." Kavinsky countered, a dangerous sneer plastered on his lips. Kavinsky stood up off the side of his car, taking a couple of slow steps toward Ronan. The latter stood up off his own car, ready to punch the boy if he needed to. "You know, Lynch," he said, continuing closer, "I could give you the same service." Kavinsky only stopped walking when he and Ronan were inches apart. Ronan, not able to tell if he was joking or actually offering, stared Kavinsky down. His blue eyes were fixed on Kavinsky's own hazel ones. The God damned sneer was still stuck on Kavinsky's face. Rage burned in Ronan's gut. He hated that smirk, it was so taunting and assholey. 

Ronan's eyes dropped to Kavinsky's curled lips for a moment before darting back up to the boys eyes. "My eyes are up here, sweetheart." Kavinsky's voice was just about a whisper. "You trying to flirt your way out of losing, K?" Ronan taunted, chest tight. Kavinsky's eyes were like lasers, burning Ronan's skin. "Not out of losing, no, but you're on the right track with the flirting thing."

Ronan was starting to think K was actually being serious. Kavinsky rolled his lower lip between his teeth. He laid his hand on Ronan's hip, their faces but an inch apart. 

It was now clear that Kavinsky was definately being serious. 

Ronan drew in his eyebrows, glaring at Kavinsky. "You're a piece of shit." Ronan hissed quietly, Kavinsky's hand traipsing up his side. "Am I? Hm. I never noticed..." He murmured, moving so he was even closer to Ronan than before. Ronan could feel Kavinsky's breath on his face and their lips were just millimetres apart. The longer haired boy rested his hand on the small of Ronan's back, not pressing but having force to the gesture all the same. Both of them made to close the gap between their lips at the same time. They kissed awkwardly for a moment before finding a rhythm. Kavinsky was fast-paced at nearly everything, including snogging. He placed his other hand on Ronan's other hip, and Ronan snaked his arms over Kavinsky's shoulders. One of his hands rested on his tattooed shoulder blade, the other on the back of his neck. 

Ronan let his eyes close as they kissed, as did Kavinsky. It was far from a tender kiss, however, it was a kiss that was fuelled by hate on Ronan's part and wishful thinking on Kavinsky's. The latter slid one of his hands up Ronan's side, making his spine tingle in a way he hated. The hand stopped just above Ronan's chest, near his collarbone. Kavinsky pulled away from the kiss, the dangerous-looking sneer crawling back onto his lips. He looked down near his hand and saw the chain of a necklace beneath Ronan's shirt. Kavinsky pulled the necklace out from under it, studying the small gold cross dangling from the end. "I never knew you were religious, lynch. You need a god to protect you from something?" Kavinsky turned over the cross in his fingers, looking back up at Ronan. "Yeah. I gotta have a protector against your rank breath-" 

The punch came faster than Ronan expected. He stumbled to the right, head buzzing. He heard a snap as his cross necklace was torn from his neck. "You piece of dogshit!!" Ronan grabbed Kavinsky by the collar with one hand, throwing a punch with the other. The sound of metal hitting the ground made Ronan furious, but he didn't dare stop to pick up his necklace. He threw another punch, but Kavinsky was ready for it. He dodged the hit and pushed Ronan backwards. He stumbled back, hitting his car door with a muted thud. Kavinsky pinned him against the car by putting a hand on either of Ronan's upper arms. This, Ronan could tell, was not an intimidation attempt. This was Kavinsky's way of flirting. That much became clear as their lips met again. Ronan wrenched his arms free, aiming an open-palmed blow for Kavinsky's face. A loud smack lanced through the air. Kavinsky's sunglasses went flying off his head he held a hand to his face. He hadn't been expecting Ronan to hit him, not with an open hand. 

"You're a sick, terrible douchebag." Ronan hissed. Kavinsky's eyes were wide as he looked back at Ronan. Kavinsky turned and got in his car without a word. Ronan did the same. Engines roared to life as the boys prepared to race. They looked at each other through the window of their cars. 

"Go." Kavinsky snarled, taking off. 

Ronan revved the engine of his BMW and drove after him, careful not to accelerate too quickly. He caught up the Kavinsky, pulling ahead slightly. "EAT MY SHIT, K!" Ronan bellowed out the open window. Kavinsky accelerated in reply, but Ronan was ready. He revved up to 105 mph, streaming down the desolate Henrietta road. Every once in a while a street lamp whizzed past, illuminating Ronan's face as he sped up. 

The buzzed-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows as he realised there were red and blue lights flashing behind him. A low police siren started screaming into the night and Ronan's heart hammered in his ribcage. He pressed down the gas pedal, the engine humming in response. Kavinsky sped up all at once, zooming in front of Ronan and off road and disappearing into the night. The bright flash of white in front of him caused Ronan to slam the breaks, not screeching to a halt quick enough and the back end of the BMW smashed in into a street lamp. The back windsheild shattered; Ronan's head hit the window, which shattered as well. His sight blurred and darkened with each beat of his pulse. He clung to his consciousness, hands falling from the steering wheel as he passed out.


	2. In Which Ronan Reflects Upon the Various Shades of Richard Gansey

The bright hospital lights were blinding as Ronan opened his eyes. His head was buzzing with weariness that almost distracted from the pain in his forehead and chest, but not quite. The pain hit him a moment after and Ronan winced, his dark eyebrows drawing in. 

"The princess is awake at last." Ronan had no idea who was talking for a moment - he thought it was Kavinsky, but his vision cleared and he looked in the direction the voice came from. He was wrong about who it was, but this was worse. Declan sat in the chair across the room, looking like a shitty politician as usual. He had on a red tie and blue suit jacket over a white shirt. Declan and Ronan looked so similar it looked like his own face with longer hair was staring back at him. The only difference was that Ronan didn't have smile lines etched in arcs like parenthesis around his mouth. 

Ronan didn't reply to his brothers snarky comment. He wasn't in the mood to argue. Instead, he asked; "Where's Gansey?"

"When you crashed, they called me. I'm technically your legal guardian, since mom is in a coma." Declan replied, obviously resenting being responsible for Ronan. "I let him know a while ago, he's on his way."

"Do you have my phone?" Ronan asked, sitting up with a bit of trouble. Declan made no move to help. "Yeah. You're grounded. Not that you ever use it, or pick up. " Declan sneered. 

"Don't pretend that just because Dad is dead that you own me. You're not dad. You don't fucking own me, give me my phone." Ronan hissed, resentment in his eyes. Declan tossed Ronan's now-shattered phone. He tried turning it on. It came on, but there was a spiderweb of cracks on the screen. Ronan sighed - then a thought hit him. His car. "What about the BMW?" Ronan asked, urgency in his voice. "It's in the shop." Ronan didnt deflate. That car and his dreaming abilities were all he had left or his dad since he and his brothers were banned from the Barns, but the car wasn't a car. The BMW was a dream thing. He knew the engine and all of that was intact, but he didn't know anything about cars. They could find something up with it. Ronan hated mentioning dreamthings to Declan. The way his face contorted into a scowl of contempt made Ronan feel sick. 

"The car is a dream thing, Declan, you have to take it somewhere else. Now." The sheer urgency in ronans voice surprised Declan. "I know." Now it was Ronan's turn to be surprised. Ronan said nothing, waiting for Declan to explain. 

Declan didn't explain. Instead he said, "Your little scholarship fund friend is a mechanic, isn't he? Call him." Declan stood up, straightening his tie in the reflection of the window. "If you refuse to accept the fact I'm still your guardian until you're 18, you can do it yourself. I have a meeting I'm late for. Deal with it or don't." 

With this, he walked out. Suddenly finding himself alone, Ronan sighed. Declan had left before Ronan could mention Adam didn't own a phone. In retrospect, he figured that was probably best. He didn't need to give Declan any more reason to dislike Adam. The older Lynch knew that Adam had a scholarship to Aglionby, but he didn't know the extent of his financial issues. 

Ronan heaved a sigh, looking at thw table next to his hospital bed. He pressed a button on the little remote, angling the top half of the bed a but straighter up so he could sit without his back muscles aching. He hadnt realized how tense he was when he raced, but now his lower back was feeling the burn. How long had it been since the crash? He knew Kavinsky showed up around 12:35, the race lasted about 5 minutes. Then the police came and he crashed. 

Ronan looked at the clock on the bedside table. 

Fuck. 

He was gonna fucking murder K the next time he saw him. 

It was 1 AM and Richard Gansey the Third was driving in a bright orange Camaro to come make sure he was okay. Ronan knew Gansey was not likely sleeping anyways, but he shouldn't be driving. 

Ronan Lynch suddenly felt like a burden on his friends. Especially on Gansey. Gansey was a prince of Henrietta, he could have picked any of the Raven Boys of Aglionby to be his right hand man, but he chose Ronan Lynch. Of all the boys he could choose. Then again, Ronan thought. I used to be almost an entirely different guy. 

The guilty, twisty, scrunching feeling in his stomach only worsened. 

As if on cue, Gansey quite nearly burst into the the room, seeming wide awake and out of breath. His wireframe glasses sat crookedly on his perfect, freckled nose and he was dressed in cargo shorts and a baby blue T-Shirt, which was quite wrinkled. Ronan jumped. 

"Ronan!" Gansey dashed to the bedside, pulling Ronan into a hug. "Oh god I'm so glad you're alright, I was so terrified.."

Ronan returned the hug in a rather lame pat on the back, not really used to Gansey, The Emotional. Usually he was with Gansey, The Prince or Gansey, The Investigator. Hardly had he come in contact with this Gansey. As much as he liked the attention, he much preferred his brother as an version of him except Gansey, The Emotional. In retrospect, Ronan guess that Gansey must also preffer Ronan, Before. 

Ronan, After also preffered Ronan, Before. Ronan, Before had a mom, dad, and two- no, three - brothers. Ronan,After only considered himself to have two. Matthew and Gansey. 

Ronan, After didn't like apologizing, but he was sorry. Not sorry he raced, but sorry he worried Gansey. He didn't say it, because he knew that Gansey knew. Gansey always knew what Ronan was thinking, which was good because he was terrible with words (and showing any emotion but anger and pure joy). If Gansey didn't have the intuition he did, he would know nothing about Ronan, After except when he was angry or happy. 

Thus, instead of saying sorry, he said, "The BMW was one of my Dad's. His dreams. Its got an engine and stuff but i dont know if the shop will find something wrong with it, do you think Adam would fix it?" 

Gansey gave him a skeptical look that said "do you really want to put that load on him he's already stressed, Ronan, think of the poor boys feelings". 

"Ill ask him myself, then." Ronan grumbled, rolling his eyes over-dramatically. 

Gansey scoffed lightheartedly. "Really? You? Ronan Lynch? Asking for something?" 

Ronan opened his mouth to speak, but Gansey interrupted him, "You have to ask nicely. Not 'Hey. Parrish. Fix my fuckin car, its a dream and I'm not gonna send it to a shop'." Gansey imitated Ronan's voice, over-exaggerating Ronan's slight Irish lilt into a full blown accent. 

Ronan rolled his eyes agin, flipping Gansey off with a practiced flick of his hand. Gansey just smiled. "Theres the Ronan I know!" He said with his voice full of laughs. His face suddenly sobered. Ronan knew this was Gansey, The Older Brother. 

"What were you thinking?" Gansey said, voice more filled with concern rather than disappointment, unlike Declan, who was nothing but venom in a frostily polite shell. "What happened? I know you were racing, the police told me, but you've never crashed before." At the word 'police', Ronan sighed. "I was racing Kavinsky," at the word 'Kavinsky', it was Gansey's turn to sigh, "the cops came, and he cut across into my lane and sped off into the woods, i tried to stop so i wouldn't hit him, then spun out and crashed." Ronan retold the tale, all of it sort of fuzzy in his memory. 

"You should have just hit him! He has enough money for millions of cars." Gansey exclaimed. "Well damn, Dick. You're a savage." Ronan snarked, lip curling. Gansey glared at the use of the nickname and Ronan gave a lightheartedly sarcastic smirk. Gansey stuck out his tongue. 

The two brothers laughed together for the first time in a long time. The smiles lingered after the laughing ceased, and Ronan felt that everything was right for once. Even sitting battered in a hospital bed as an almost-orphan with a decent list of mental illnesses, he felt alright. Gansey wasn't angry, he was smiling, and everything was okay.


End file.
